Target Practice
by cmr2014
Summary: Target practice is all well and good. Just make sure you don't become the target.


DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

**Target Practice**

Even the best gunmen have to stay honed. Vash the Stampede was no exception. He was an ace gunman, and he stayed that way by training regularly.

Today was a target practice day.

He did not practice like those people at the range. Just standing still and shooting was a good way to get drilled in a real gunfight. He moved. Crouched. Went prone. Rolled.

Shot single targets. Multiples. Hostages.

Single shots. Double taps. Speed loads. Manual reloads. Drilled everything he could think of. Over and over.

Because he knew the truth – you don't rise to your expectations, you fall to your training. He had seen too many people get lazy and rely on luck. But luck will get you so far, and then it will get you dead.

So he trained. And for hours, gunshots echoed. Meryl wondered – often – how he afforded ammunition, gun gear, and donuts when he went through so much of them. He always laughed it off. Some things were better left a mystery.

He heard a thomas coming up on him. Slapped a fresh moon clip in the gun and closed the cylinder. Turned around casually.

"Spikey." Wolfwood nodded as he dismounted.

"Wolfwood. Your bike looks different today."

Wolfwood laughed. "Yeah. It's in the shop. Guy gave me this in the meantime to get around town. Said if I keep the food and coop receipts, he'll comp it."

Vash's eyebrow arched. "What happened to the bike?"

Wolfwood lit a smoke. "Funny story. Ran out of coolant crossing the desert into town. Overheated. I put some cold water in it and it cracked the radiator."

Vash clenched his jaw to keep it from dropping. "You didn't. You put _cold_ water in an overheated – crying out loud, man! You're supposed to know not to do that! Good God, and you call yourself a rider. Basic physics!"

"Hey, spikey! Don't lecture me on physics! You want physics, have a lesson in how to shoot. You see that target of the zombie grabbing the girl out there?"

"Yeah, I see it. Straight out to my nine o'clock. What of it?"

Wolfwood set down his punisher. Released the bundling. Opened the panel and took out a pistol.

Held it straight out to his side and pulled the trigger. "That's what of it. Don't lecture me on physics when I can make bullets dance."

Vash jerked his head. "Don't get cocky. Let's see what you hit."

"Let's."

They marched out to the target.

Vash smirked. "You hit the girl."

"I was aiming at the girl!" Wolfwood protested. "She was bitten."

Vash pointed with his gun. "I don't see any bite marks."

Wolfwood went and bit out a chunk of the target. Spat it out. "Bite mark, right there!"

Vash burst out laughing. "Lame. Come on, let's go back to the line."

"I have a better idea," Wolfwood said. "Forget all this paper crap; let's shoot something you can actually tell you hit."

"Like what?"

Wolfwood led the way. "There's a bunch of fruit just sitting up here by the house. We'll use that."

Vash scratched his jaw thoughtfully. "I don't know. I seem to remember Meryl bringing that home this morning. I think she had plans for it."

Wolfwood snorted. "Don't be such a whipped idiot. If Meryl was going to use that stuff, it would be in the house. It's just sitting out here, going to waste. We'll put it to good use. Here, grab a box."

They hauled several boxes of fruit downrange and set up as targets some watermelons, apples, pears, and pineapples. Once all the fruit was set up, they went back to the firing line.

"Now we can have some _real_ target practice," Wolfwood grinned. Vash couldn't help but grin back.

They went to town on their fruit targets, trying to outdo each other.

"One eye." Wolfwood nicked the end of a watermelon.

"Backward, no eyes." Vash took care of the rest of the watermelon.

"Gangsta." Pistol held sideways, Wolfwood took out an apple.

"Upside down." Vash disintegrated a pear.

"_Pineapple's mine!"_ they yelled and shot at the same time. A pineapple blew apart as both bullets hit.

It didn't take very long for their showing off to destroy all the fruit. In the end, it was a tie, as it always was when they shot against each other.

They were just shaking hands when Meryl Stryfe came out of the house.

"Oh, hello, Mr. Wolfwood. Vash, I was going to start making dinner. I had some fruit out here softening up so I could use it for pies for dessert, have you seen –"

She took in the fruity-licious carnage. Eye twitched. Vash suddenly got very nervous.

"I see you've been having some target practice," Meryl said frostily.

"Wolfwood –" Vash started.

"I think I'd like to join in on some moving targets!"

"– _RUN!_"

Vash and Wolfwood fled under a hail of derringer fire.

"She's _your_ girlfriend," Wolfwood panted as shots flew by. "We should outrun her pretty quick, right?"

Vash grinned as he sprinted ahead, leaving Wolfwood to face the wrath that was Meryl Stryfe. "I don't have to outrun _her_; I just have to outrun _you_!"


End file.
